


Flawless

by CassieWolfe



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Asexual Damian Wayne, Gen, Platonic Soulmates, Prompt Fill, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:14:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27883582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CassieWolfe/pseuds/CassieWolfe
Summary: Flawless:adjectivewithout any blemishes or imperfections; perfect.Bruce Wayne's skin is flawless. In a world of soulmarks, his body is bare of the symbols that draw people together.
Relationships: Bruce Wayne & Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne, Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake & Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson & Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne & Damian Wayne
Comments: 16
Kudos: 122
Collections: Gen and Aro Prompts (Any fandom)





	Flawless

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by [spitecentral](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spitecentral/pseuds/spitecentral) in the [GenAndAroPrompts](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/GenAndAroPrompts) collection. 



> This one's for a prompt in Gen and Aro prompts (Any fandom). I'm not anywhere near satisfied, but whatever ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Also, I didn't mention it for anyone but Damian, but all the boys except Dick are ace. Dick became extremely sex-repulsed after Tarantula, but started out bi. I don't pretend to have any experience with the topics within (asexuality and sexual assault) so please let me know if I did anything wrong.
> 
> **Prompt:**
> 
> A Soulmate AU, but focused on platonic soulmates instead of romantic ones. Not fandom specific; I would prefer a fic written for any of the above fandoms, about any character other than the villains, but it's your choice. May contain background romance, but absolutely no focus on it, please.
> 
> Some ideas:
> 
> \- You and your soulmate can telepathically communicate.  
> \- You and your soulmate switch talents when you find each other.  
> \- You can't notice you found your soulmate until a very specific occurance; two best friends/siblings figure out they were soulmates all along after years of knowing each other.

Everyone had the marks. Only the Blank didn't, and they were rare. They hid their flawless, flawed skin from the world and avoided the judging glares of society. When it came to most people, though, the first two were complete when you were born. They ran across your left wrist, matching those on your parents' arms. The others were simple black shadows, the plain lines that would one day bloom into full colour. On your left arm were the marks of your future children, your siblings, the friends who would be closer than your blood relatives – your family. On your right were the marks of your enemies. Not simply people you resented, or who bumped you on the train, but those who you would hate with a deep loathing. And above your heart was the mark of your soulmate.

The soulmark was different. It was supposed to be only one, but that was easily disproved by the triads who sometimes found each other. Scientists couldn't explain it; theologians preached about it. It was the mark of the one person most important to you, the person you'd fall in love with and stay with forever. Only broken people lacked it, people so horrible that nobody could ever love them.

Bruce Wayne didn't have soulmarks. He hid it, of course, as society demanded. He wore high-necked, long-sleeved shirts and avoided nudity around anyone sober enough to remember in the morning. On his wrist, his parents' marks were faded and chipping away like paint. Above them, his arm was clear. On the other arm was the stain of a gruesome, twisted smile. And above his heart was empty space.

( _Just his luck, he thought sometimes. Only three marks, and they're his dead parents and the psycho clown that wanted to kill him._ )

By the time he was twenty-five, Bruce had mostly gotten past his missing marks. Sure, as a kid he'd wondered why his friends all had tattoo-like symbols scattered across their bodies and he didn't, but then his parents were gone, and it really didn't matter anymore. By the time he found the League of Shadows, by the time Ra's taught him and tested him, by the time he returned home to guard his city as his father would have wished – by the time all that had happened, he'd practically forgotten that he was broken.

When he adopted first Dick, then Jason, they never asked about his unblemished chest and arms. In return, he never tried to see their own telltale marks, but accidents happen. Once, he caught a glimpse of Dick's arms. On his left was a rotten bruise of dark blacks and purples. An identical stain spread over his right. When Jason was being treated for a gunshot to the ribs, the vigilante noticed that his son's chest was as bare as Bruce's own. It didn't matter. They were his, and he would love them just the same.

( _He got Alfred to remove or cover all the mirrors in the Manor. No good leaving reminders of what they lacked lying around._ )

Over time, Bruce watched them grow confident, and then watched as Dick left and Jason, his beautiful second son, was lowered into the ground. A persistent nuisance of a teen showed up on his door a few weeks later, and Tim Drake joined the family. Still his skin was barren. Jason came back, but he came back wrong. Eventually, a ten-year-old showed up and had the audacity to call him short. A few DNA tests later, Damian Wayne was proven to be his son.

( _Bruce couldn't believe Talia would do something like that. She knew he didn't want her, yet still disregarded his feelings and simply took what she wanted. Dick told him to go to a therapist. He didn't – hitting criminals was a perfectly fine way of expressing himself._ )

One time, Jason collapsed into tears while they fought on a roof. Bruce broke down a bit, too, and that night the Manor had six occupants. He finally got the story of Tarantula out of Dick, and his heart broke a little for his eldest son. Damian tried to kill Tim, and Bruce got lost in time. Tim, his little genius son, found him despite ridicule from his brothers. A decade passed, and he realized that none of the Bats were aging. If none of the others were making a fuss, he decided, might as well ignore it. Didn't change anything. Dick tried dating Barbara, which went about as well as Bruce and Selina. Damian dropped out of school when he realized that all his friends were growing up without him.

Things happened, of course, but sometimes it seemed like nothing ever changed. Bruce tried to give Damian the Talk, which was an unmitigated disaster. It involved bananas, donuts, and a lot of horror on both sides. Finally Damian informed his father of his complete and utter disinterest in such things, much to the relief of Bruce and the disappointment of the three boys who had been watching with stifled laughter.

When Bruce stripped his costume ( _suit, it was not a costume_ -) off after patrol, he wasn't thinking about the four sets of eyes on him. When Dick spoke, it was tentative.

“Bruce... what's that on your chest?”

Thinking it was simply an ill-thought-out practical joke, Bruce turned to reprimand his son, and caught a glimpse in the only mirror still left out. Across his heart, five symbols lay interconnected. New.

“What...” He trailed off.

When he turned, Bruce saw Dick stripping off his own shirt, twisting to stare at the matching emblem on his own chest. Hurrying now, Jason followed suit. When Tim returned from the bathroom, he and Dami found their own skin marked as well.

“What does this mean, Father?” Damian looked scared.

“Nothing.” Bruce responded instinctively. “It means absolutely nothing. Just because whatever powers cause this decided to play a cruel joke doesn't mean anything changes.”

Because it didn't. He loved his sons when their skin was unmarked, and he loved them now. Despite what society would say, despite how they would howl about immorality, it didn't matter. In all history, never, _never_ had someone developed a soulmark for someone related to them, but then- ah well. His boys were a host unto themselves, and it didn't matter what cruel, heartless people who didn't know any better said. Empty arms did not mean an empty heart.


End file.
